


the second hand unwinds

by bambilong



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 80s AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble, F/F, Kinda, Minor Angst, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, if you count the 80s as modern
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 08:30:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19314442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bambilong/pseuds/bambilong
Summary: That 80s Daensa drabble absolutely no one asked for but i felt compelled to make.





	the second hand unwinds

**Author's Note:**

> been on a stranger things binge, and im still mad about game of thrones, so my two hyperfixations melded together to make... this. yeah. i dont know either  
> not beta-ed and written at nearly two in the morning so please forgive any errors i might not have caught, feedback is always appreciated!

 

 

_If you're lost, you can look, and you will find me_

_Time after time_

_If you fall, I will catch you, I will be waiting_

_Time after time._

* * *

 

It’s a record store.

 

It’s _always_ a record store.

 

Sansa pretends not to notice her at first, as usual, but Dany’s appearance sticks out like a sore thumb in any sort of setting, here is no exception. Its the damn near _white_ hair, which Dany always insists is _silver, natural_ , (no one quite believes her), the leather _with_ the flannel tied around her waist, the loose blouse underneath it all.

 

_Always making a statement; never satisfied,_ Sansa muses, fingertips brushing absentmindedly over the records before her. She can’t approach, not yet, never does it first. Has to _wait,_ Dany says its more amusing that way. Makes it look like they're not _friends._

 

And they're _not,_ Sansa thinks, despite trying to avoid the thought. Sansa hates the people Dany’s always around, they don't talk in the hallways at school, and despite the others height, she's a _massive_ pain in the ass, so no, they're not friends.

 

Whatever happens in darkened corners, at this _stupid record store,_ isn't really them. They can pretend they're someone else, for a bit.

 

“Lost, Stark?” she _feels_ the words being breathed down her neck, more than she actually hears them. Shaking it off, Sansa swallows.

 

“Exactly where I wanna be,” her tone is steadier than she feels, even with the way she feels Daenerys (where the _hell_ did she get a name like that) is looking at her.

 

Dany moves slowly, like she's got nowhere else to be for the next _year,_ leaning up against the shelving, humming. Literally fucking humming.

 

“Could’ve fooled little ol’ _me,”_ she replies, her voice nearly singing, and _God,_ sometimes Sansa wants to throw something at her. “Got your head so far in the clouds, surprised you can even hear me.”

 

And, suddenly Sansa realizes.

 

“Are you _high?”_

 

“No more than usual,” Dany admits, shifting.

 

“You’re never high when we’re -“ she has to stop, realizes she's being _loud._

 

“When we’re _what? Talking?”_ Dany laughs, almost sounding nervous. “Gotta tell you, I’m high about eighty percent of the time I talk to anyone, and you’re no exception, babe.”

 

_Babe —_

 

“You know what I’m talking about,” Sansa tries, prodding a bit.

 

“Yeah, whatever,” the other shrugs her off. “You wanna go for a drive? Sick of this place,” she (doesn’t) explain.

 

“Not driving with you while you're high,” theres an unspoken sentiment of _not letting you drive by yourself, either,_ that has Dany cocking a brow, seemingly irritated.

 

“So _you_ can drive the car, I just wanna _go,”_ and theres something almost desperate, _almost sad,_ that Sansa really doesn't know what to do with it. Theres also the frightening fact that Daenerys never lets _anyone_ drive her car, let alone _Sansa._

 

“… Really?” she asks, giving room to doubt. Room for Dany to _think,_ if she needed to.

 

“Let’s _go,”_ she continues, despite the question, tugging on Sansa’s denim, almost pouting. “Before I leave _by myself_ and get _hurt_ and make you feel bad from my hospital bed,” she keeps going, _teasing,_ waving her keys around like an invitation.

 

“I can’t _stand_ you,” falls out of Sansa’s mouth before she can think better of it, though theres no _bite_ to it like there usually is, no venom, hand snatching the keys from her counterpart.

 

“You’re a heartbreaker, Sansa Stark,” Dany states, her tone carrying something _wistful._ Sansa blinks, watching as she backs towards the entrance. “And, I’ll race ya.”

 

Daenerys bolts, suddenly, Sansa following with a shake of her head, and a single thought.

 

She might not hate Dany as much as she _thinks._

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on twitter @gaymra!


End file.
